Balled Up
by tir-synni
Summary: Hohenheim had heard many stories concerning middle children, but this was getting ridiculous.


Title: Balled Up  
Fandom: FMA  
Characters: Hohenheim, Edward  
Warnings: Inspired by Calvin and Hobbes coughs  
Rating: A stunning G  
Summary: Hohenheim had heard many stories concerning middle children, but this was getting ridiculous.

Hohenheim had always heard stories concerning middle children. Not the baby nor the first born, the middle child tended to be the most dynamic, craving attention and doing almost anything to get it, while attempting to maintain their individuality.

Still, this was ridiculous!

Hohenheim stared helplessly at Edward and wondered what Trisha would do right now. She would surely know what to do. At the very least, she would know what her eldest child was thinking.

…Actually, Hohenheim wasn't sure he wanted to know what Edward was thinking right then.

"Edward?" he asked hesitantly. No response. "Edward, would you like to go with me back to the apartment?"

Edward didn't move from his perch on Hohenheim's chair. Hohenheim still didn't know how Edward had managed to reach his desk with his real foot, considering how short his legs were (something he had learned to never say aloud), nonetheless how Edward managed to get his awkward prosthetic foot up there, but the lithe blond had both feet on Hohenheim's office desk, ankles crossed. His arms were crossed, too, loose and casual across his chest. Edward's head was bowed; Hohenheim still had no idea where Edward had gotten his hat, but it hid his face quite nicely. Hohenheim could only guess he had received it from his strange Asian friend.

"The noisy bird had a lot of words but nothing to say," Edward intoned. Hohenheim cringed. There he went again. "He cast an inhumanly tall shadow across the office, blocking the already dim sunlight."

Hohenheim blinked. Curiously, he glanced behind him. Seeing that he blocked the office's lone window, Hohenheim flushed and stepped to one side.

"The bird finally moved," Edward continued, his tone and stance never changing. "He looked sheepish: not a new look. I tried to ignore him, but I knew he had more to say. His kind always did."

Bewildered, Hohenheim started, "Edward," only to realize he had done exactly what Edward had said he would. He quickly closed his mouth.

"The snap of his mouth closing was loud in the quiet of the office," Edward said calmly. "Too loud. I considered silencing him, but it was too much effort. I decided that at least he was quieter than some other saps that I knew."

…Edward actually knew other people? Hohenheim had thought that besides the Asian, Edward's only acquaintances were books!

"I considered catching some shut-eye," Edward went on, "but I knew the bird couldn't keep his beak shut for long." Hohenheim sputtered but Edward didn't pause. "I didn't bother telling him that he reminded me of a lonely dame in a train station waving good-bye to her sheik: we both knew. Instead, I decided to throw him a bone."

Hohenheim was still sputtering helplessly when Edward raised a hand to the brim of his hat and casually tipped it upward. "Coffee?" he drawled.

Having no idea what to say, Hohenheim could only shake his head. Edward immediately lowered his hat and recrossed his arms.

"Turns out the puppy couldn't catch. It didn't matter. I think the puppy had been dropped on his head too many times, but he was still wagging his tail. I decided to give him a break and see if I could catch up on my sleep. I had a date with Morpheus and I was already late."

That said, Edward fell silent. Hohenheim shrugged weakly to himself. All right: he would let his son sleep. Maybe his time here was stressing Edward more than he had thought.

He bypassed his son's new trenchcoat—the Asian friend again?—to grab his own coat. As Hohenheim did so, he saw a notebook filled with scribbles beside the coat stand. Curious, he picked it up.

Writing exactly like Edward had been talking. Disturbed, Hohenheim replaced the notebook and hastily left the office.

Considering Edward and the middle child syndrome, it made him wonder about Alphonse. He had heard many stories about the babies of the family.

Hohenheim considered his two eldest children for a moment. Never mind. He was happy being oblivious to Alphonse's quirks.


End file.
